


Advent Children

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, awareness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-14
Updated: 2011-01-14
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Child Abuse Awareness. "I never blamed you... not once. You came for me and that's all that matters." AU. Character Death. SoraXKairi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advent Children

~For my Grandfather~

Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! **The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.** (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

Almost five children die every day as a result of child abuse. More than three out of four are under the age of 4.

X X X

_It wasn’t supposed to have happened this way._

Sometimes, it was hard to feel sad. It was hard to believe she was really gone. It all felt like a nightmare… an awful nightmare. Maybe they would wake up soon, wake up from the nightmare this life had become. Maybe they would find out that she was only sleeping and that she would wake up from her own nightmare.

But, this wasn’t a dream or even a nightmare. It was reality and she was really gone. Even so, it was still hard to believe.

Especially when her best friend was standing there with his beautiful eyes closed and his cheek resting on the polished glossy wood of his violin, playing so sadly it sounded like a cry coming from deep inside him, but it was only music inked on a cracked old white paper. He had written this piece for her, but he had never gotten to play it for her before she died. He still looked so beautiful and alive and wonderful and so did she in her beautiful wooden deathbed. 

_He wasn’t supposed to look that way._

Sora was beautiful, standing there with those cerulean sky-colored eyes half-closed, petal-pink chapped mouth curved in a small twisted sad smile as he played the warm mahogany instrument. He was wearing a nice fitted black suit, but by now had shed layers of it. His black jacket and black tie were draped over a chair. He was down to black slacks and the milk-white shirt with the top two buttons unfastened to reveal porcelain-pale flesh the same white as his skin and the jagged still-healing wound at his throat.

_He was supposed to have made it in time._

No one could say he hadn’t done all he could have.

It hadn’t been enough… Kairi was lying in the overpriced rosewood box that was soon to be heading six feet under. The mortician had done a wonderful job with her. She looked so beautiful, almost still alive. Her soft rose tresses curled lightly around her face and her creamy lids were closed over indigo eyes that would never open again. Hidden beneath her pretty pink and white dress, there was a big wound in her stomach that mirrored the one on Sora’s throat. 

He hadn’t been able to save her, but he had done all he could have. He had tried so hard. He had nearly died himself. 

Though, standing here, looking down at her beautiful smooth expressionless face, he would have given anything to be lying in that casket instead of her. 

He wasn’t supposed to be standing here with a bouquet of purple carnations waiting for her grave in the chair with his suit coat and tie and looking across the sea of black with his violin wrapped in his arms like a small child. He wasn’t supposed to be trying so hard not to cry. He was supposed to have saved her. He was her best friend, older and bigger and stronger than her. 

When he finished his song, he couldn’t see. His blue eyes were too blurred with emotions and tears. Someone said something to him, but he didn’t respond. 

He couldn’t. 

Since her death, since his throat had been cut, he had been unable to speak. 

It was too hard. 

It hurt too much.

“Sora? Hey, it’s okay. You did all you could.” 

“That was a beautiful song, sweetheart. Did you write it for her?”

He pulled away from all those pawing hands, throat aching with the need to shout, to scream, to unleash all these pent up emotions. He put the violin down with his jacket, his tie, and the bouquet of purple carnations for her grave and ran from the funeral parlor, from the mints and the boxes of tissues and the overpowering scent of flowers to hide the smell of death. 

Outside, ice-cold wind tore into him like a clawed beast. 

There was a police cruiser sitting in the parking lot. After all, Kairi’s mother was still at large. Her father had beaten her within an inch of her life and then stabbed her, killed her. Sora had been trying to save her, to help her. He had been keeping her secret because she asked him to, the secret of the abuse she suffered at home, but he had had a bad feeling. He knew something terrible was about to happen. 

He had never suspected her death.

Or that her father would take the knife stained with her blood and slit Sora’s throat.

…

Riku was standing in the threshold of the parlor, watching Sora run away. Several people wanted to go after him, fearing he would take his own life in guilt-ridden grief. Riku held them back, barring the doorway with his body. He guided all the people who had once loved Kairi back into the parlor and handed them tissues. Then, when everyone had forgotten about Sora except that he had tried so hard to save her, he returned to the window and looked out at the grey dreary day. 

Sora wasn’t like that.

He wouldn’t just die.

He would want to live for Kairi now. He would want to see her mother caught and jailed beside her father. He would want to fight abuse across the world. He would want awareness and safe houses. He would compensate for the fact that he had been unable to save her.

…

Sora didn’t know where he was going. He was just running blindly from the funeral parlor and her body in the rosewood bed. But after a while it was clear he was in a cemetery. He fell at the base of a statue of an angel, staring at the carving of the name and time of life and death. 

Another child—fourteen—Namine. 

Sora staggered to his feet, wiping his eyes with his hands and trying to catch his breath.

He saw movement from the corner of his eyes. There was someone in a thin white dress even though it was cold with long cranberry-colored hair walking among the tombstones. His voice stuck, trapped, deep in his chest. His heart began to race and thunder behind the cage of his ribs. He wanted to call out her name, but he couldn’t. His throat constricted around the thought of words.

She put one small white dove-like hand on the headstone, turned back, and smiled at him. She looked so beautiful, so full of life, all smiles and laughter. She didn’t have any bruises. He was so used to seeing her covered in bruises from the beatings she got or hiding behind powdery beige makeup and baggy clothes. She opened her mouth and said something to him, mouthed his name so slow it was like she was tasting it.

Then, she was gone. 

She wasn’t really there.

Sora ran to where she had been standing and put his hand on the tombstone, on the place where her hand had been. The stone wasn’t even vaguely warm. It was just cold lifeless stone. 

She hadn’t touched this.

She hadn’t been here.

She was gone.

Agony speared through him. He choked on the words that wanted to come out—the sobbing wrenching apologies, the sorrow and pain. 

“Hey…” the voice was like a song on the wind. “I never blamed you… not once. You came for me and that’s all that matters…”

He felt a soft touch across his damaged throat, tracing the path of the wound, but there was no one there. He was alone, wasn’t he?

“Sora… I never blamed you.” 

There was warmth across him, like a body draping across his back, arms hanging down over his chest, holding him and hugging him. 

“You came for me. That was the greatest thing I could have ever hoped for… a friend like you…”

He wanted to speak, wanted to cry out.

“I have to go…” she whispered. “They’re waiting for me. You understand, don’t you?”

He nodded, unable to speak, choking on tears. 

“Live your life, Sora. I’ll wait for you, but if you can live without me, that’s okay too.”

He tried to choke out her name, but his throat throbbed with is heartbeat. 

“I have to go…” she whispered and he felt the lightest touch of lips on his cold cheek. For a moment, she appeared in front of him, hands folded neatly, looking as beautiful as she had in her casket except smiling and happy. She looked over her shoulder and smiled as if she saw someone beckoning to her. She knelt down, wrapped her arms around him, and pressed a small chaste kiss to his mouth. He wanted to hold her, but her body was like smoke, cool and intangible. “I have to go, Sora. Thank you for coming for me. Thank you for being my friend.”

When she put her back to him and walked away, vanishing like smoke in a few steps, he still ached for her and the life she had lost, but he knew she was happy. She was at peace. She didn’t blame him.

_“I never blamed you… not once. You came for me and that’s all that matters.”_

…

Sora returned to the funeral parlor. Riku was waiting, holding his jacket, tie, violin, and the bouquet of purple carnations. He didn’t say anything, but Sora did.

“I’m okay, Riku,” he murmured. His voice was rough and muted, damaged by the wound. “She’s okay…”

Riku smiled, never one to question the unknown. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah…”

When they departed for the graveyard, the cold wind was still howling, but there were ribbons of golden sunlight peeking through the heavy clouds.

X X X

Ah, a vaguely happy ending. 

FYI: Because I think it was a little unclear, but I like the story the way it is—Kairi was killed by her father. He abused her and Sora was her best friend, keeping her secret. Since he was the only one that knew about what was happening to her, people thought he should have done something to save her. He did try, but she had already been stabbed by the time he got there. Her father even hurt Sora, slit his throat. Kairi’s mother is still at large. That’s why there was a police car outside the funeral parlor. The rest I think was self-explanatory. Review or message with questions if you’re still lost.

First, drop a review and let me know what you think! (Flames will be used to roast marshmallows and weenies!) 

Second, I own nothing except my original characters: though I think there are none in here. I also own my plot! So there, now I can't be sued!

Third, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! **The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.** (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

Questions, comments, concerns?


End file.
